


Golden Eyes and Broken Hearts

by lasweetiebloom



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Cullenlingus, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, My First Smut, One-Shot, Open Relationships, Post-Dragon Age II, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 02:02:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10584102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lasweetiebloom/pseuds/lasweetiebloom
Summary: Isabela needed a stiff drink and a good lay. Cullen needed... well, whatever Isabela had to offer.





	

The pirate walked into the Blooming Rose, head high and an amused smirk already plastered on her lips. Her boots thudded heavily on the rug-covered stone floors and music twinkled amongst the bawdy laughter and cat calls of the whores and patrons alike. Isabela took a deep breath in through her nose, relishing the smell of sweat and drink and sex in the air, and confidently strode into the main bar.

Isabela’s body was already humming in anticipation as her gaze swept over the room. Her usual choices smiled and waved, Justine pulling her blouse lower and Marcus flexing his arms nonchalantly. She was going to hire them both for the evening, seeing as Hawke had been gone for a good two months, when a mop of curly hair caught her eye at the bar. There weren’t many new patrons, not since everything had gone to shit, so the newcomer stuck out.

_Fresh meat_? She cocked an eyebrow towards Justine, who shook her head in answer to the unspoken question. Isabela watched the man further, laughing gaily when he turned towards her. _This’ll be good_ , the smirk cementing itself on her lips.

“Well, well, fancy meeting you here. I didn’t expect to see a templar in here tonight.” She hooked a leg over a bar stool and sat next to the man, leaning in to whisper. “Especially not one as handsome as you, Knight-Captain.”

“ _Former_ Knight-Captain, actually. And I would say I was surprised to see you as well, my lady, but I hear that you’re a frequent patron here.” Cullen turned towards her, eyes raking over her strained tunic. She chuckled and motioned to the bartender for her usual.

“You could say that.” He had shaved the goatee off, _Andraste be praised_ , but his hair still was as curly as ever, albeit a bit longer than the last time she had taken note. _I should give him some of that gel Varric uses._ She studied his face, noticing a scar that wasn’t there the last time she had seen him, perhaps the goatee hid it? It was still red, though, and Cullen absentmindedly felt it with his tongue as she watched him. _New then_. He wasn’t wearing his armor, and Isabela took note with interest that he wasn’t wimpy underneath the plate mail. “I have to ask, former? I heard you were lined up for a cushy promotion since the last Knight-Commander became that horrifying statue.”

Cullen grimaced and set his drink down on the bar, his eyes studying it intently. “I turned them down. And I… left the Order. I’m leaving Kirkwall, actually.”

“Where to? Somewhere else falling apart at the seams?”

He laughed and shook his head. “Where isn’t? I’m going back to Ferelden. A group of Seekers are trying to find a way to fix this mess.” He motioned around them.

Isabela rolled her eyes and leaned on the bar. “I imagine you’ll be in the thick of things soon enough. When do you leave our great city?”

“Tomorrow morning. I board the _Merciful Lady_ at first light.”

“Oh, so this is a final night sort of deal? In that case, need helping picking a whore? I hear that Idunna is still very popular with the templars…”

“Maker, preserve me.” Cullen dropped his face into his hands and Isabela giggled. She laid a hand lightly on the man’s shoulder, noting with pleasure the feel of hard muscle beneath. “I don’t think a blood mage is the right choice for my last night in Kirkwall. Seems like it would be in poor taste.”

“Well I’m always a fan of irony. I love to fuck port officials before I steal their stuff.” Cullen let out a bark of laughter and lifted his head to meet her gaze. He smiled, crooked with the scar on his lip, and Isabela felt a flutter in her chest. _He would do nicely for an evening_. Their eyes remained locked and Isabela noted that his were golden like hers. Her hand slipped from his shoulder to his arm, gripping it lightly as heat expanded between them. She wanted to make another joke, or an innuendo, but words didn’t come to her tongue, a rare occurrence, she noted.

A sudden breaking of glass and a shout broke the trance. With a start, Isabela downed her drink and stood, Cullen standing politely with her. She grinned toothily at his chivalry, as it made it that much easier for her to pull him from the bar. She grasped his hand, large and warm and rough, in her own and began to move towards her room. He allowed himself to be led, swigging some of his brandy as he watched her.

“Where are we going?” he asked, amused. Isabela answered only with a grin, and shut the door behind her. An ornate bed sat before them, and Cullen’s hand tensed within hers when he took note of it.

“My room. My stake in Hawke’s mine made me enough gold to buy a whole chamber for myself.” Isabela smiled, releasing his hand and sitting on the red silken sheets. She caught sight of his face, bottom lip captured by his teeth, and she let out a throaty chuckle. “Oh, don’t worry, Cullen. I’m not going to take advantage of you. It was just getting loud out there. Friends should be able to talk in peace, right?” She patted the bed next to her lightly, but Cullen didn’t take her up on the offer. He rolled his eyes and set his drink down, taking a seat at the desk. He leaned back, fingers interlocked in front of his mouth and his legs wide in front of him. He raised an eyebrow at her.

“I didn’t realize we were friends,” he answered, smirking.

“Suit yourself.” She leaned back on the pillows, crossing her feet in front of her and laying her hands on her stomach. They sat in silence for a few moments; Isabela could swear her heart was hammering loud enough to be heard across the room.

“You know,” Cullen said, his hands parting to grasp his glass, “you never told me why _you_ are here. I can’t imagine Hawke would like her girlfriend visiting a brothel when she’s away.”

“Girlfriend?” Isabela laughed merrily. “Hawke is not my _girlfriend_.”

“Does she know that,” Cullen asked, quirking an eyebrow up. Isabela rolled her eyes and chuckled again.

“Look, when Hawke and I are in the same place, we’re together. When we’re apart, we’ve made no such vows to remain ‘faithful’,” she hooked her fingers around the word. “You should just ask Justine; Hawke is very particular when I’m at sea—”

Cullen raised a hand to stop her, smirking. “I don’t need the mental image, thanks.”

Isabela shrugged and continue, “As they say, when the cat’s away…”

He shook his head at her, leaning forward to place his elbows on his knees. “I just don’t understand how she can let you play. If you were my mouse…” He trailed off, his voice low and rough.

Isabela unconsciously licked her lips, catching Cullen’s focus. “And how would you keep me from doing what I want? The mouse has to have its fun.”

“I wouldn’t leave.” A vow.

“Let me guess, true love would keep us together? I didn’t think Knight-Captain Cullen would be a romantic.” It was a lie, of course. When he had blushed and stammered on the Wounded Coast, talking of the whores in the Blooming Rose, Isabela had him pegged. He probably thought sex should be left only to those who were married, or—

“He’s not,” he said curtly, sitting back in his chair again. “Just possessive.” Isabela had heard that tone a thousand times and it always meant the same thing. _This is supposed to seduce you_. _This is what you should want_. Cullen clearly didn’t know her well at all.

Isabela rolled her eyes and propped herself up on her elbows. “A woman is not a possession. It seems the templars forgot to teach you that lesson.” The flutter in her heart was dissipating. Perhaps she should just go find Marcus after all…

“You know what I meant,” Cullen snapped, indignation tinting his tone.

She sat up and swung her feet over the side of the bed. “Yes, I know _exactly_ what you meant. Men always think that _owning_ a woman is romantic. But let me tell you, I’ve been owned before, and it’s not roses and sunshine.”

Cullen’s cheeks went pink and his mouth formed a surprised “o”. “Forgive me, I didn’t realize…” He stretched a hand to the back of his neck and looked away.

In an instant he changed from Knight-Captain to bashful idiot. Isabela took pity on him and smiled. “I’ll forgive you only if you tell me something I don’t know about _you_.”

He chuckled and shrugged. “What do you want to know?”

“Are you a virgin?” she asked, raising an eyebrow when he didn’t balk at the question.

A satisfied and cocky grin on his face, he answered, “No.”

“How many?”

“I think it’s your turn, my lady.”

“You’re the only one who would call me that.”

“I’m aware.” They both laughed, and some of the tension left the air. “Out of curiosity, where is your not-girlfriend?”

“I dunno,” Isabela replied with a shrug. She ignored the flicker of sadness in her heart; she couldn't very well tell Cullen how much she missed Hawke. “Now it’s my turn again! So, how many women have you wooed into your bed, Knight-Captain?”

With a roll of his eyes and a heavy sigh, Cullen contemplated for a moment. “Ten.”

_Clearly inflated,_ she thought, _since men always go up and women go down. What’s the real number, then? Five? Six?_ “And who was the first?”

“You keep forgetting your turn, Isabela,” a low warning. This one did the trick, and a thrum went through her body, ending right between her legs.

Ignoring the feeling for a moment, she laid back on the bed with an exasperated sigh. “Fine, fine, Cullen. What would you know of me?”

“So you like women _and_ men?” Isabela shot up and stared at him in shock. He was grinning again.

“You don’t want to know the number?”

He laughed and shook his head, setting his finally empty glass down on the desk next to him. “No, I’m afraid knowing how many would sap whatever courage I have now.”

“Courage, hmm.” She turned to lie on her side, watching him while propped up by her hand. “Interesting choice of word.”

“Are you going to answer my question?”

“You know the answer, Cullen. I do. Men are good for some things, women are good for others. Simple as that.”

“And Hawke doesn’t mind?”

_That was always their second question, wasn’t it?_ “She likes women, whether or not those women like her. Who was your first?”

“Ah, we both know your first time is an awkward thing,” he reached up and scratched his neck and Isabela drank in his stretched form.

“Was it a naughty mage?” Cullen scowled, which only made her laugh.

“No, she was a templar.”

“Ooh, this is better than the Randy Dowager! Go on, what happened? Did you give her the holy smite?”

“Maker’s breath,” he swore, laughing. He shut his eyes and relented. “Alright, I’ll tell you. Only if you promise not to tell anyone else.”

“I swear on Andraste’s tits I won’t.”

Cullen eyed her suspiciously. She laid a hand over her heart, which was enough to cement her vow apparently. With a heavy sigh, he began, “She was visiting from the Spire, in Orlais. She was tall, and fit, with gorgeous dark brown skin and curly black hair. But she had these bright blue eyes, Maker, it was like looking at jewels in the sun. I was instantly… enamored. Unfortunately, I was too damned shy to speak to her. Every time we had training together, I would try to get up the courage and chicken out at the last moment. Weeks passed and I couldn’t get anywhere with her, and the templars don’t have a lot of alone time. Then one day, I was bathing after training all morning, and she walked in. Turns out we didn’t need to talk at all.”

Isabela hooted and clapped her hands. “Bravo, Knight-Captain. That’s a very sexy first time.”

“What about yours?”

She fought to keep the smile on her face, but Cullen noticed it falter. “Your first time with a woman, I mean,” he added hurriedly, and the grin returned.

It was a story she had told many times, evidently, “Well, I was docked in Antiva City, having just stolen my first ship, and I was searching the brothels for a crew. I wandered the streets, scouring for the scourge of Thedas who would follow a woman. I finally went to this place, called _The Perfumed Spring_. It was a lot more upscale than I had expected, all the women were beautiful and young. There was one girl, an elf, who was lying on this couch across the room. I was talking to the matron, asking about the sorts of clients they had, when she waltzed up and grabbed my hand.’

“She said to the matron, ‘This one I want.’ I told them that I didn’t have any gold, but she insisted. ‘I want her for _free._ ’ Naturally, I was a bit suspicious. I hadn’t been to many brothels, but I’d been to enough to know whores don’t work for free. But the matron agreed, and the elf led me to this room. She told me her name was Mariana and that she had _never_ seen anyone as beautiful as me. She told me she wanted to make love to me because I was the most exquisite creature she had ever seen.” Isabela paused in her story, smiling when Cullen leaned forward as if to prompt her.

“I told her I had never been with a woman. She then told me something I’ll never forget. ‘Darling, men are good for one thing, while women are good for six.’ Then she said that after she was done with me, I’d never need to be with a man again.”

“Was she right?”

“For a time,” Isabela conceded with amusement. Cullen laughed with her, running his hands through his wild hair.

“Now, I think it’s my turn again, Knight-Captain. When was the last one?” Cullen caught his lip in his teeth again before sighing.

“It’s been… some time.”

“How long? Since the Chantry explosion?”

“Longer,” he looked down, and the delicious shade of pink returned to his cheeks.

Isabela sat up with interest. “How long?!” Her eyes widened and she tried to keep a smile from her lips, but the idea that he was wound up so tight…

“Three years,” he mumbled, and Isabela gasped exaggeratedly.

“No! Three years? Knight-Captain, you must be ready to pop!” Cullen buried his face his in hands, but his shoulders shook with laughter.

Muffled, he replied, “You’re not wrong.”

She giggled at his misfortune, and was going to console him, when a knock at the door caught their attention. Isabela flew to the door, not wanting to disrupt the spell they were under, and opened it a crack.

“What in the Maker’s name do you want?”

The sliver of light illuminated the matron’s grey right eye, narrowed. “You need to pay for the room, Bela.”

She shook her head, cursing swiftly. “I’m not in here with one of _yours_ , why do I have to pay?”

“You got the room ‘cuz you buy so many of our girls and boys, not for your own…” The matron peeked into the room to assess Cullen, “private contractors.”

“Fine!” Isabela took her coin purse from her hip and tossed the woman two gold coins. “That work?”

The matron hurried away without another word.

“Sorry about that, Knight-Captain. Apparently I don’t own this room as much as I thought,” she apologized and she turned, leaning against the closed door.

“Why are you here?” He said it softly, eyes downcast.

“I told you, Hawke’s gone and I don’t like having an empty bed.”

“I mean with me.” Isabela could tell it was supposed to come off as nonchalant. Just a simple question. But the layers of self-loathing peaked through and her heart squeezed in sympathy. She’d had those days, more recently than she would admit, and she felt for the templar.

He continued, “You could have your pick of people in this brothel tonight, many of whom would likely pay _you_ for the pleasure. So why are you sitting alone in a room with me?” He was watching her face, and she felt suddenly exposed.

“I…” She faltered, walked closer to his chair and stepping between his legs. She grasped his chin and pulled it up to look in his eyes. To appraise him.

There it was. Pursed lips and disbelieving eyes. She had seen it reflected back too many times in the mirror to not know the driving motivation behind it. Doubt, and not the normal kind either. Not the feeling you get when the merchant tells you that this new poultice will clear up any skin maladies in an hour. It was the feeling you had when your loved ones asked why you risked your life to return a stupid book.

The doubt that your life is worth anything. And it clearly wasn’t the first time he’d felt it. The first time Isabela had the thought, she had been shocked into silence, and had spent the night in her bed, weeping. Eventually the years turned the tears into grimaces and then, just a quirk of the lips and eyes. Her heart broke looking down at the templar, realizing he too had harbored the doubts for too long.

Their golden eyes searched each other, and Cullen set his hands on her hips. Big and warm, they were welcome against her skin on her sides, bared by her tunic. He squeezed at the ample flesh, the twitch of a grin flitting across his mouth.

Her hand still on his chin, she leaned down, testing the water. This was the point of no return, she knew, and she was willing to tumble wholeheartedly into the sea. He sat up further to get closer, their eyes locked. Swiftly she closed the gap between them and captured Cullen’s lips with her own.

His reaction was immediate. He pushed up against her, his lips and tongue already insistent. Heat poured down Isabela’s spine as their tongues stroked against each other, this kiss already spiraling into molten heat. She moved her hand from his face and grasped his shoulders, swinging her legs over his to straddle his lap. He groaned into her and grasped her hips tightly, fingers digging into her.

She broke the kiss for a moment to chuckle, and she pulled Cullen’s hands from her sides to her ass, planting one hand on each half. He moaned with a smirk as he squeezed, quickly maneuvering his hands under the tunic to hold her bare flesh. Their lips met again, and Isabela had to give it to him. Cullen was a _great_ kisser. Not too much tongue, nor too little lips, just the right amount of heat and moaning. She could feel herself getting wet already and soon the feeling of Cullen’s cock pressed against her.

He pulled back for a moment, and she thought he was going to lose his nerve. But without hesitation, he moved one hand from her ass to her hair, pulling it enough to expose her neck to him. He kissed the tender flesh where her shoulder met her throat, nipping it when she began to grind against him.

She’d have to upgrade the rating from great to excellent. He gave her throat more attention, trailing his tongue up and down, until she thought she would cum just from the kisses alone. The hand still on her ass inched further in and down, the tip of his finger brushing against her sex and even the brief contact made her gasp. He laughed against her, his scarred lip still on her heated skin, and pulled back to look up at her.

She quirked an eyebrow at him, when he didn’t resume the attention. “Something wrong?”

“What are the six things?” She hadn’t expected that. She scoffed and shook her head.

“I promise, Cullen, you’re doing great here.” He had moved the hand from her hair back to her ass, and she was mildly disappointed. The hair pulling had been nice.

“I just want to make sure that you’re satisfied,” he said and his eyes were so earnest. Another wave of heat shot down her spine, to her surprise, and she humored him.

“Men are good for their cocks, women are good for their cunts, their fingers, their mouths, their tits, their asses, and their hair.”

Cullen smirked. “A man can be just as good with his mouth as a woman.”

Isabela laughed and leaned down to nip at his ear. Her tongue circling his lobe, she whispered, “Care to prove it?”

She thought he would balk, most men wanted to go straight from kissing to fucking, but Cullen bellowed out a laugh. His hands slid under her thighs and he stood, carrying her about his waist as easily as a feather. She shrieked merrily, her hands wrapping around his neck to steady her and her legs grasping his torso.

At the foot of the bed he pulled her off and tossed her down; she landed on the mattress with a pleasant bounce, and she knew the grin on her face was less sexy and more amused. He looked down at her, starting to climb on the bed, when she stopped him.

“Take off your clothes,” she commanded. He smirked, his tongue darting out to stroke the scar on his lip. With a smooth motion he yanked off his shirt and Isabela whistled appreciatively. Chuckling, he began to untie his pants, slipping them off along with his smallclothes.

_I can work with this_ , Isabela thought lasciviously, licking her own lips when he ran a hand down his already hard cock. She had expected him to be bashful or shy, but he stood there with a grin, letting her drink in the sight of him. She sat up, excited to feel it herself, when Cullen shook his head.

He chided her. “First, it’s your turn, captain.” She laughed and leaned back, spreading her legs for him to kneel between. He leaned onto the bed, his hand stroking the tanned skin of her thigh. His fingers moved up, teasingly reaching just to the edge of her smallclothes before making their way back down. She hissed with the movement, her cunt pulsing with want.

He reached the top of her boot and dipped his fingers between her brown skin and the tanned leather. With a grunt, he pulled the dagger she kept within out, whistling as he moved it around in the light.

“This is a beautiful blade,” he said with clear appreciation. She was about to thank him, when he swung the blade up, slicing the ties of her tunic. She gasped and laughed as her breasts did their best to break free from the tearing fabric.

“A _very_ beautiful blade,” he amended, tossing it to the ground below them. He retrieved the dagger from her other boot, laughing as he caught sight of it. It was one of her favorites, the hilt formed in the shape of a buxom, and nude, woman.

He looked down at her, false sternness in his voice. “Any other daggers I need to worry about?”

She rolled her eyes. _Two steps forward…_ “I left the others at home. Now c’mon, big boy. We’ve only got till dawn.” He acquiesced and made quick work of her boots before returning to her tunic.

He stroked her breasts over the fabric for a moment before a grin spread over his lips. Before she could ask what was so amusing, he grasped the torn edges of the garment and pulled, ripping it open. He gave her a moan of appreciation as he took in the sight of her naked chest.

“May I?” He asked, gesturing to her chest. She rolled her eyes and nodded with a smile, drawn reluctantly. Somehow he managed to be a gentleman after tearing off her clothes.

He covered her breasts with kisses, each one building the fire inside her. When she thought she could take no more, blinded by passion as she was, his tongue flicked her nipple. She cried out, her hands weaving themselves in the satin sheets. Cullen laughed, his hot breath chilling her sensitive skin into gooseflesh.

His mouth moved lower, past her navel to the edge of her smallclothes. Open-mouth kisses on the fabric covering her drove Isabela to a point past need. She pushed Cullen away and yanked off the rest of her clothes.

“No more teasing,” she commanded. “If you’re so good with your mouth, Knight-Captain, show me.”

“With pleasure,” he groaned, licking his lips. He knelt again, pulling Isabela’s muscular legs over his shoulders. He kissed the inside of her thighs, sucking hard when she wove her fingers through his hair. She yanked in response and shivered when the breath of his laughter hit her wet cunt.

She was about to protest again, call him a coward or a fool, when he dove in. His tongue worked circles between her folds, sending shockwaves up her spine. Unlike the others who had dared try to impress her, he did not crescendo to a big finish. Instead, it was sudden and inspired, his tongue and lips drawing an orgasm from her much faster than she would admit. She felt a naïve maid, cumming from an errant stroke. She wiggled against his mouth and he locked his arms around her legs to keep her in place.

After she had cried out again, calling the Maker’s name and his in reverence alike, Cullen released her legs.

“What do you think,” he asked as he moved up her body again. “Am I as good as Mariana?”

Isabela could hardly speak but her nod was strong enough. Cullen reached her throat, sucking the taut skin hard enough to make her moan.

“What was the other thing? A woman is good for her fingers, right?” He slipped his hand between her legs, fingers parting her sensitive skin. She whimpered as Cullen slipped into her, curling and swirling with each stroke. 

He whispered into her ear, tongue darting to accentuate his next question. “Am I as good as Hawke? Does she fuck you like this?”

She shivered, unsure how to respond. _It’s different_ , she would have said if she could have found the words. When she didn’t respond with something pithy or sarcastic, Cullen grinned, wolf-like. He slipped another finger into her, moaning at how eagerly she moved her hips against his hand.

“Captain,” he breathed, leaning down to capture her lips with his. She broke the kiss to cry out, the pulsing of her cunt reverberating throughout her. When she had stilled, Cullen pulled away, licking her juices from his fingers.

“What do you want now, Isabela? Tell me what you want me to do to you.” _Damn, damn, damn_ , she thought, mind finally returning to reason. Cullen was a lot more skilled at this than she had thought he would be.

In response, she sat up and pushed him back. His cock twitched as her hands stroked his body, tugging on the blonde hair that covered his chest and stomach. She looked up at his honeyed eyes, shutting as her fingers stroked his thighs.

She wet her lips and planted a gentle kiss to the tip of his cock, laughing when it twitched away. Cullen’s hand shot up to his hair and he grimaced as she wrapped her lips around him, tongue guiding her way down his shaft. The grimace turned into a beaming grin as she gripped him, hand and mouth moving on his in tandem.

He thrust into her gently, following her motions with a practiced roll. She loved the feel of his cock on her tongue, velvet and hard, and she moaned around him. The humming was driving him further than she planned, and she pulled away before he could cum.

“I want you to fuck me, Cullen,” Isabela purred as she laid back. He scrambled up eagerly. She couldn’t help her grin as she watched his body, cock twitching as his eyes roved over her, stopping between her legs before snapping to her eyes.

“It’s something you won’t forget, Isabela,” he warned with the same smug grin. She rolled her eyes and pulled him close, arms hooked under his so he was just at her entrance.

She purred, “I could say the same thing.” He kissed her at that, tongue stroking hers with practiced nuance. She moaned and shifted beneath him, brushing his cock with her wet and wanting lips until he groaned. He broke away just as he entered her, both crying out as he slid in as easily as though he’d been made to fit her.

He did not take it slowly, did not let her languidly enjoy him. A lesser man would start slow, would do his best to impress with his length or his girth. But Cullen went straight for the good part, her favorite part. The part that made one screw their eyes shut tight and cry for the Maker’s mercy. It was all Isabela could do to hold on, her legs wrapped around his waist as he thrust, each stroke coming fast and hard. He grinned down at her face, she was sure it was a contorted mess but she was too far into the throes of pleasure to care, and reached a hand between them, his fingers stroking her in time with his cock. She shut her eyes and went silent for a moment, jolts of pleasure shooting up her spine to darken her mind.

She wasn’t sure if she was just thinking his name over and over, or screaming it, but it had the same effect. “Come again for me, Isabela,” he commanded, his lips brushing her ear, and she complied with vigor.

As she came down, Cullen still pounding into her, Isabela had a moment of clarity. _I certainly won’t forget this_. Many times, later in life, Isabela would think back to this night with a lascivious grin, the memory of Cullen’s cock on her tongue, his fingers deep within her, his tongue on her breasts. She wondered if he would go back to it as often as she did, if he gripped himself with thoughts of her beneath him.

He was getting close to his own release, the thrusts becoming erratic against her. Isabela dug her nails into his back and tightened around his cock, laughing as his eyes flew open in surprise, and met his thrusts as heartedly as she could.

Cullen cried out her name and a string of oaths as he finished, and Isabela groaned appreciatively as he filled her. Their eyes met as their chests heaved less and less, both coming down from the highs their passion had brought them. He smiled, an adorably bashful look, and Isabela returned with her own girlish grin. He held himself above her, arms shaking from the effort and she took pity.

“Come here, pet,” she said, enveloping him in her arms and pulling him close. He breathed in the scent of her hair as she stroked his back, both chuckling as his cock gave errant twitches and her cunt pulsed.

“Three years, hmm?” She mused softly, turning her head to kiss his temple.

He mumbled into her hair before propping himself up, still inside of her. “The longest three years of my life, I swear.”

He pulled away and she whimpered to lose the warmth of him. He went to the basin at the window, eyes searching the moonlit alleyways as he cleaned himself off.

She tucked herself into the bed and she suppressed a moan as the satin slid across her still sensitive skin. “Will you stay here the night,” she asked innocently, voice trained to be as neutral as possible. Truly, Isabela was not as hard-hearted as she pretended; she enjoyed spending the night in someone’s arms. Hawke had seen right through it, naturally, but it was among Isabela's best ket secrets. 

Cullen shot her a look of surprise. She cursed herself, _now he thinks I am some desperate fool_ , until he nodded fervently. “Of course! I’m not a man to…”

“Come and go?” Isabela suggested with a laugh. He returned to the bed, sharing her mirth, and slid between the sheets.

He curled around her, her ass nestling perfectly on his thighs. He gave it a light squeeze before wrapping his arms around her body. She loved the feeling of his breath in her hair, his forehead pressed against the back of her neck.

“Thank you,” he whispered, and she thought perhaps she wasn’t meant to hear it.

“Oh, think nothing of it. I was just doing you a favor. I couldn’t bear to send you off to _Ferelden_ without a good lay.” 

He laughed and held her closer and she couldn’t help but feel his cock beginning to stir beneath her. “I don’t know if you could categorize that as ‘good’. Amazing, spectacular, maybe.”

“I would say flattery would get you nowhere, but that would be a lie.” She rolled her hips and pressed further into his lap, smiling for herself when Cullen groaned.

“As tempting as another go would be,” he breathed into her ear, “I fear it might just kill me.”

“But it’d be the best way to go, wouldn’t it?” She chuckled reaching back to run her fingers through his hair. "Thrust to the hilt in a beautiful woman. It's how I want it." 

He pressed his lips against her neck, soft, and her skin prickled enticingly. She murmured, breathless, “Just one more round, Cullen, I promise.” His hand slipped up to cup her breast and he pressed against her without another word.

It was more than one round, though Isabela felt assured that Cullen hadn’t minded the third or fourth. She went to the window, the warm breeze enveloping her chilled skin. She could hear Cullen’s soft snore rumbling from the bed and she grinned into the moonlight; her heart felt finally light for the first time in weeks. She glanced back at the former templar and giggled at a lock of curly hair out of place on his forehead. _Maybe they’re good for more than just the one thing_. She shuttered the window and slipped into the bed, curling into Cullen’s chest and falling into an easy sleep.

 

 

* * *

 

Cullen strode purposefully along the docks, a hand running through his hair to comb it from his eyes. The light of dawn was already bathing the world, and he was mildly afraid the Seekers would have left without him. Seeker Pentaghast didn’t seem the sort of woman with an abundance of patience.

He needn’t have fretted; the _Merciful Lady_ sat in its dock, the crew bustling up and down the gangplank. The Seeker stood on the dock, shouting for them to be careful, her hand lightly resting on the hilt of her sword. She turned when he approached, the glare softening some from her eyes.

“Knight-Captain,” she acknowledged him with a small nod.

He bowed in return, “Seeker. My apologies for my tardiness. I was… held up.” The thought of Isabela beneath him sent a small shiver down his spine, and he fought to keep it hidden.

She motioned for him to follow, striding confidently onto the ship. “No matter,” she called over her shoulder. “Did you find out the Champion’s location from the pirate?”

“No, she didn’t show up to the tavern like I expected.” He was glad she was turned away; it made the lie easier. He swallowed hard to dampen the pounding of his heart.

Cassandra turned slightly and murmured, “Sister Leliana’s people said they saw her enter the Blooming Rose, a…”

“Brothel. I’ve heard of it.” He stopped on the deck, motioning back towards the city. “Do you want me to go see if she’s still there?”

The Seeker watched him, her eyes narrowed. Evidently he passed whatever test she was giving, and her face relaxed. “I still think the dwarf is our best bet. What’s his name again?”

“Varric Tethras.”

“Yes. This Mister Tethras wrote an entire _book_ about the Champion. He must know where she is. Once we find him, I’ll make him talk.” She did not relish the thought; her lips squeezed together in a grimace. “Come, Knight-Captain. I’ll show you to your bunk.” Cullen nodded and followed, hazarding one last look back at his home of seven years.

_Goodbye, Isabela._

**Author's Note:**

> So this is vastly different than the other things I have posted, but wanted to mix things up! Hope you enjoyed! It's definitely one of those ships that started off as a joke and then... Let's just say I'm in Cullabela hell.


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